She blinks, forcing her face to stay neutral, but she has no idea I feel every strong emotion that hits her. That I know when she’s scared or upset, turned on or embarrassed. I even know when she starts to feel affection toward me—and I have to shut it down.
She moves the focus off her. “Then how do we fix the mistake?”
I still don’t know.
I don’t bother trying to get her eyes to stay closed again. “Are you trying to distract me? Because you’re not leaving this bed until those nipples get some attention.”
She returns her hands to her sides with a defiant glance at me. “Any kind of answer will do.”
So stubborn. But what can I say? I already told her I don’t know how to fix myself without killing her. Her fingers tap the mattress. It’s not that I don’t want to tell her anything, but this is how she gets closer to me, sneaking in questions. It’s dangerous when I’m trying to keep her at a distance, at least her heart. But I’m my own enemy because I want her to know me. And I want to know everything about her. “I was going to.”
She wrinkles that perfect nose, silently questioning me.
“I was going to kill you, if I had to. To fix myself.”This is me.
She stiffens, eyes round.
“But I decided to keep you instead.”This is also me.
That must be enough to satisfy her because her limbs loosen, and she reaches for her tits again.
The movement of my hand returns, my skin heating as she takes her nipples between her knuckles with an eager force. I lean in close, breathing onto her twisting fingers. She smells like fresh rain and the middle of a black night. The tiny buds harden, and it’s easy to bring back the feel of my tongue sweeping over those ridges. Not touching her is torture.
My face is so close to hers. One move, one brush of skin, and I’d be in agony. Her forehead creases, her hips restless and searching. Ittakes every ounce of restraint to keep from tearing those panties off her ass and climbing on top of her.
“One hand down.” I blow gently on her fingers.
Her body tenses. “I can’t.”
“Me either,” I remind her.
Me either,Kelter quips.
Not without getting your neck broken.He’ll never touch her like that.
I already have,he says, accessing the thoughts I don’t mean to let through.
What? I thought—she said they were friends, but I didn’t ask aboutbefore.
Through you,Kelter says.I told you—weareeach other. You’re with her, I am too. It’s the same.
That’s not how it works. They’re not your memories, your lives. And not your hands on her. Know why I’m so sure? Becausehermemories are of her and me. Your dick was nowhere to be found when I slammed into her so hard we blacked the fuck out after.
Never inspects my face, no doubt revealing hints of my side conversation with Kelter.
“I’m waiting,” I say.
She squeezes her tits in frustration and rolls away, trying to escape me—as always. I grab her waist and pull her back to my side. Pain jolts up my arm and encompasses my entire being, shards of glass severing my nerves in a million places at one.
“Fuck!” I rip my hand away.
Ouch, dammit,Kelter says.Don’t you learn?
Shut up.
“You foolish man.” Never laughs then covers her mouth, hiding it. But it wouldn’t matter if she managed to keep a straight face. I feel it. Her happiness rushes through me, evaporating my pain.
“Do you see this? Do you see what you do to me?” I stroke myself again over my pants. “I would flip a godsdamn mountain upside down to touch you for one second without feeling like I’m being turned inside out.”
